Unexpected Encounter
by randomplotbunny
Summary: Jim learns a bit more about John than he ever expected too. Johniarty.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This story was written at two am after I sat myself down and forced myself to write through my writers block. Hopefully it will kick-start the creative juices and I can finally update my multi-chapter stories._

_And if you think this might be good enough to expand let me know and I'll do my best._

**Disclaimer: I own nothing that is recognizable!**

"Sherlock, what did you do to the pans?" No answer.

"And the stove?" Still no answer.

"And all the edible food?" The silence was deafening.

Giving a huff John wandered into the living room where a- completely absorbed and in no way purposefully ignoring John- Sherlock was sitting working on his website.

"Sherlock? Did you hear me?" When still no response was forth coming John threw up his hands and stalked over to the door.

"Fine. You starve, I'm going out." Grabbing his jacket the doctor stormed out.

Deciding to walk off his huff he headed to a nearby park, all the while muttering unflattering things about flatmates, too much take-out and CCTV cameras.

Halfway through his second lap he finally calmed enough to realize that he was still hungry, and more so now than before since he had been burning a lot of energy with his angry pacing.

Giving an internal smirk at a sudden idea, he really didn't want whoever was manning the ever watching CCTV cameras to notify Mycroft too soon, John headed for the nearest tube station- and made himself disappear.

It wasn't too hard a skill to master, especially not when he'd been doing it since he was a teenager, and within an hour he was completely off the radar, standing in the alleyway behind his destination, silencing a rather complicated looking alarm system and breaking into an upscale flat.

Once inside he immediately headed to the kitchen and started raiding the fridge, loading up a plate with leftover chinese food and pizza. The cocking of a gun just behind him didn't even make him flinch.

"Why Johnny-boy! To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" Turning slowly, plate in one hand pizza in the other, John gave his erstwhile 'host' an honest answer.

"I was hungry and Sherlock destroyed the kitchen and all our food. I didn't think you'd mind if I raided your leftovers." Taking a bite of the pizza slice he was holding for emphasis, John stared down the gun wielding madman in front of him.

"And just how did you know where I live? Not even the Iceman knows that." Swallowing his mouthful, as he had been taught not to talk with his food in his mouth, the blonde decided on the best way to answer.

"You're a genius, figure it out." With that he turned back to the open refrigerator, grabbed a bottled water and headed into the sitting room to turn on the TV; all the while completely ignoring the gun pointed at him- as well as the flabbergasted expression worn by the gun holder.

Finding an unexpected Doctor Who marathon John settled in. When another plate wielding person sat on the other end of the couch he didn't even look up.

By the time the Doctor's companion, Rose, was scattering 'Badwolf' all across time and space the, until then silent, brunette couldn't take it anymore.

"The Holmes boys are at each others throats because you've completely vanished. You circumnavigated all my security- if I hadn't heard you shifting plates and utensils I would never have known you were here, which I think you did on purpose." Waiting to see if his almost question would be answered he continued when he was sure it wouldn't be.

"You have talents and skills I never knew about, and which it seems that even Sherly was ignorant of." When still no response was offered he shifted closer on the three seater.

"Your not an amature Johnny, I can see that, but just where did you learn such things and how have you kept it all a secret this long?" When amused blue eyes finally met his own dark ones Jim knew his answers wouldn't come just for the asking.

"How about a game Jimmy? You like games don't you?" Teased John, completely at ease in the psychopath's presence.

"And just what are the rules to this game Johnny?" Jim pressed, intrigued anew by the doctors complete relaxation in his presence- no-one was ever at ease around him after all, he made quite sure of that- as well as the proposal of a game.

"It's simple: you make guesses about my past, if you're right then I remove a piece of clothing, if you're wrong you have to remove an article of clothing and the last one still wearing something gets to top." John smirked at the flummoxed expression on the highly feared criminal's face.

"Just relax Jimmy, I'll even give you a freebie because I'm still wearing my jacket and you're not." John's smile widened further as an appreciative and calculating gaze swept over him.

"No tricks now Johnny, Daddy will know if you lie." Jim said while thinking of all the dirty things he could do to this man, he would completely ruin him to the point that Sherly could never again look at his blogger.

"Of course. And if you happen to lose I promise to fill in all the blanks for you regarding my past- after I've had my way with you of course. Deal?" Holding out his hand he waited for the other to come back down to earth.

"Deal." Shaking the offered hand Jim shook off the deliciously distracting thoughts of all the nasty little things John might want to do to HIM.

Looking John up and down Jim decided on how to start.

"You're not gay, you're bi."

"That isn't a question about my past." John smirked as he reminded the brunette about the rules.

"And you said I got a freebie." Jim countered and was pleased when the blonde removed his jacket.

The game bounced back and forth for several minutes until they were both in only their pants and everything was riding on the next question.

Jim had learned a lot about the good- or not-so-good, as the case may be- doctor: the man had first broken the law at an early age, was completely self-taught, had been caught once but never arrested and had joined the army to try and turn his life legit.

And for the life of him, the more he knew the more confusing the man became!

He had one question left before a winner was decided, and he really didn't know what to ask in order to win.

"Ticktock Jimmy, we might have all day but I'd rather be doing something... more fun." John prompted while running his eyes over Jim's exposed chest.

"Fine." Jim groused.

"You planned this whole encounter." The moment the words left his mouth, and glee lit up the blondes eyes, Jim knew he had lost.

Removing his pants he sat and waited for John to collect his prize, he WAS a man of his word after all.

The caressing hand on his back he expected, the gentle kiss to his jaw wasn't.

"Get dressed Jimmy, I never said it would happen right away." All the criminal master mind could do was watch as his unexpected house guest replaced his clothes and made to leave.

"I'll collect on our wager some other time, perhaps when you're not so sore about having lost. Until then..." Leaning over the still naked brunette, John placed a soft kiss on his lips and then pulled away.

"...I'll just have to entertain myself with the pretty image you make without your pants." Leaving the way he had come in, John headed back to his life of being an ordinary citizen. Though he couldn't help but toss a last sentence over his shoulder.

"And I'm telling Sherlock that you kidnapped me for lunch since he wouldn't feed me." As Jim began to laugh John headed home with a smile of his own stretched across his features.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: It's the long awaited for second chapter! And just a warning, there is sexy times ahead._

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Three days.

Three days!

It had been three days since his encounter with John and he had yet to be contacted by the man since then- not that it would be easy for the doctor to get away now.

The Holmes brothers had tightened security around the man as if he were royalty!

It had become very frustrating for Jim- in more ways than one- not to be able to see John and finish learning all of his secrets, and that is how he found himself in this new predicament.

He had slipped into the good doctor's bedroom that night while the man slept intent on accosting the blonde and maybe getting some answers- or at least getting a good lay.

What he hadn't counted on was to be grabbed once he'd reached the edge of the bed, dragged under the covers and cuddled like a teddy bear.

Wrapped in strong arms, unable to get away- he had tried but John refused to let go, or even open an eye- Jim finally let himself relax and drift asleep.

He made his escape the next day after he'd woken up alone- and he refused to admit to being disappointed at that fact- and started to plan their next meeting.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

A fake ID, a complaint of a stomach ache and a half hour wait with the actual sick people and he was sitting on an exam table with Dr. Watson holding a stethoscope to his back and telling him to breathe.

Several questions- all of them asked by the doctor who refused to answer any himself- an x-ray and a prescription later Jim was climbing into his car while wondering at just what had happened.

He'd come to this pathetic clinic to lure John into having dinner- an actual dinner- with him, not to be told he had the beginnings of bronchitis and given antibiotics.

He had toppled syndicates and shaken governments!

So why couldn't he rattle one little old ex-Army surgeon?

JMJWJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Things had been going so well! Damn those Holmes's.

He had nabbed John after his shift had ended at that undeserving-of-such-an-amazing-doctor clinic- and after his bronchitis had cleared up- and taken him out to dinner.

They had just settled in their chairs when his phone had rung and he'd had to leave the doctor sitting there as he took off one step ahead of the security detail that had been dispatched.

Damn those Holmes's!

All he needed was an uninterrupted date- talk, he meant talk- with John and he'd finally get all the answers he wanted.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

He was asleep in bed, he'd had a long day, when a pair of warm arms circled around his waist and a body dipped into the space behind him.

Grabbing for the gun under his pillow- which wasn't there- and turning to face the threat- which wasn't one- he came face to face with a smirking blonde.

Jim could only gape as a pair of soft lips started peppering kisses on his.

"John?" He knew it was a stupid thing to ask- Of course this was the doctor!- but he couldn't stop himself from voicing his shock.

It had been a month since John had first broken into his flat- a different one than this one, the one they were in had a lot more security(which had apparently failed to stop the doctor) and was supposed to be burglar proof- and Jim hadn't once been able to get close to the man for any significant amount of time- conscious time at least.

And now the man was in his bed snogging him!

So why was he questioning events instead of kissing John back?

After that revelation things began to heat up and clothes were quickly abandoned.

"John. John! More! Just like that. Yes!" He panted out as he clung to the blonde as he was fucked into the mattress.

He never bottomed, not for anyone, but having John take control and drive him insane with pleasure felt so right.

He was shaking through his second orgasm when the blonde gave a shout and flooded him with his release, they collapsed on the bed afterwards.

"I still want to know your history." He muttered as he sank into his pillow once they were clean again.

"Haven't been able to find out anything, have you?" John teased with a laugh that should have irritated the criminal but instead just made him smile.

"Still want to know." He said as he began drifting off.

"I'll tell you next time, I promise." The blonde said he cuddled close to his new lover.

When Jim woke up he was alone, the evidence that the night before was more than just a dream was all around him and also in his sore muscles.

Once dressed he went to make himself some breakfast and contemplate how John had managed to circumvent his security- again.

In his kitchen he came across fresh coffee, a covered plate and a note.

Pouring a cup of the dark brew he looked under the plate covering, it held a perfectly made omelet, and then picked up the note.

'Jim,

Last night was amazing, and I can't wait to return the favor one day, but I had to leave before Sherlock realized I was gone so I'm sorry you woke up alone.

I'll keep my promise and tell you about my past next time. Until then you should eat something(hint: I made you an omelet) to keep up your strength.

Until next time,

John'

Sipping his coffee while rereading the note, Jim felt his lips curve into a rare happy smile.

John Watson was just so very interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: I just want to say sorry, this story gets kind of heavy at the end of the chapter, but don't panic. I would never permanently hurt or damage any of my favorite men without good reason._

**Disclaimer: As I am neither Moffat or Gattis I see no reason for you to even consider the idea of my owning any of this amazing universe.**

_Dear Jim,_

_I promised to tell you about my past, and so here it is._

_When I was nine years old I broke into the neighborhood bully's house and stole back Harry's favorite doll, I felt just like Robin Hood after that and was completely hooked. I took to sneaking into all of the houses on my block just to prove to myself that I could._

_At eleven years I stole something for real for the first time. My mother was always strung out on pills, and my father was always at work or drinking. Harry and I had to mostly fend for ourselves, so__ I broke into a local shop and stole us some sweets sweets to share and cheer us up._

_ To this day I'm still surprised that I didn't get caught. And once Harry had pointed out just how lucky I had been I decided to, instead of giving up on a life of crime, teach myself all that I could about it._

_Naively I went to the local library to do so, but I like to think that it was a good choice. I read a lot of crime novels, and when I didn't understand how something was done I would go looking for a book to tell me how to do it. Eventually I started putting into practice what I learned._

_I was thirteen when I first stole something of any significance, at least it seemed that way at the time. It was a painting from the local museum, not the greatest item one could take but good for a beginner I guess. I managed to sell it for far less than it was worth, but then I didn't know many people then and I needed the money to keep Harry and I from starving._

_Skip a few years and I was sixteen. I had been steadily working my way up to bigger scores and so inevitably I stepped on a few toes. I was found out by a man that wanted an item I had recently taken, I lucked out again when he decided he wanted to use my skills rather than kill me as he'd been planning to._

_He whisked me away to join his 'team', just a bunch of thieves he kept under his thumb- you might even have heard of us, though I doubt it, we went by the name of The Ghost Brigands- and that's how I spent a year of my life. That year was the best and the worst. Ten thieves all hanging around each other, teaching each other and learning new trades and skills from one another; it was an amazing experience, truth be told._

_The only downside was him. He decided what jobs we would take, what pairs we would work in and how we could spend our down time. And that isn't even taking into account the horrible things he did behind closed doors that we weren't supposed to know about._

_ I made a lot of money during that year- but I haven't been able to bring myself to use any of it since then- and added a lot more skills to my set list. And though I've added skills since then as technology has improved the majority of my talents were learned during that time._

_And this is where I tell you why I'm writing this all out instead of telling it to you face to face._

_A few months before I turned eighteen I fell into a trap orchestrated by Interpol. Myself and three others of the team were rounded up and put into holding cells to stew. Eventually we were given a choice to either turn on our employer/boss, who they wanted badly, or to be thrown into prison._

_We turned him in. We saw it as our best chance to escape him._

_The team scattered after his arrest and I returned to my family and my ordinary life. Eventually I became a doctor and joined the Army, you know the rest._

_But now he's back._

_That murderous, conniving, manipulative bastard is back and out for blood. Out of us all I'm the only one left, he's already killed the others._

_I spotted him the day after that amazing night we spent together, and so I went looking for answers._

_This is goodbye Jim. He's giving me the chance to get my affairs in order and say my goodbyes before he ends it- just another level of mental torture I guess._

_And I know what you're thinking: Why didn't I come to you for help?_

_Well, that answer is simple: I don't have time. He__'s given me until dawn to meet him or else he'll kill everyone I care about. Everyone. _

_God this is so hard. I really thought we could have had something good eventually, but that's just another regret I'll be taking with me. And I have so many._

_Goodbye Jim, and remember: this wasn't your fault. And if you're feeling generous you might let Sherlock read this letter, just to let him know that it wasn't his fault either._

_Always yours,_

_John_

Jim valiantly fought the urge to tear the hand-written note to shreds and burn the pieces to ash along with the whole of London.

How could John think that he wouldn't have protected him, his family and friends from harm?

It froze his blood to know that if he hadn't woken up when he did- 4:30am, they still had plenty of time before dawn- he wouldn't have noticed the letter laying on his nightstand until it was too late.

Practically running to his office, Jim powered up his computers. He needed to find out just who John's mystery 'employer' had been, and where the bastard could be luring his Johnny to.

Gather information as quickly as possible, Jim came to an awful conclusion very quickly: He couldn't do this alone in the time frame allotted.

Picking up his phone he dialed a number from memory as he continued to dig through Interpol's secure files for the man he wanted.

The call was answered on it's third ring.

"Jim."

"Hey, Sherl. I need some help."

"And just why would I help you?"

"It's John."

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

John looked around blearily at the small room he'd been left in from his position on the floor. No windows, one door- securely locked even though there was no way for him to reach it- two chairs and a table.

He had entered the room half an hour ago when the sun began creeping over the horizon, he had sat at that table and talked with his once boss; and now he would die in here.

The poison had worked fast to paralyze him, but now it was taking its time killing him. It was a new designer drug, designed to immobilize the victim and then slowly kill him over a twelve to twenty-four hour period depending on the dose, he had been told.

And boy did it ever burn.

He felt like every vein in his body was being melted with acid, if he were capable of screaming in that moment he would be howling in agony.

As blessed darkness finally claimed his mind he hoped that he would stay dead to the world until it was all over, but he knew that that was a foolish wish to make considering just who had injected him with the torturous concoction.

)

_AN.2: Please don't hate me! Everything will be fine next chapter I promise. _

_And don't forget to drop a review! If I get some good suggestions about what Jim and Sherlock should do to John's old boss I'll be sure to integrate them into the next chapter._


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: So sorry for the delay in updating! I've recently taken up new hours at work and am still adjusting to the change. Again: So sorry!_

_And Chapter Warning: Torture, but nothing graphic. And only to the man that had tried to kill John, so we all know he deserves it._

_By the way: Brownie points to anyone who can name where I got John's boss's name from! And if you can't figure it out I will feel sorry for you._

**Disclaimer: Absolutely nothing but the plot idea is mine.**

It wasn't pain that finally awoke John Watson, it was the lack of it that did so. That and the steady- and annoying- beeping of an EKG machine.

The sound of a door opening made him open his eyes and turn his head towards the intruder, but he only managed to open his eyes.

He realized that he couldn't move his head.

What was more was that he couldn't seem to move any other part of his body either.

Panic started to set in just as his visitor stepped into his view, instantly calming him just by being there.

It was Sherlock, Sherlock looking vaguely concerned.

"Calm down, the paralysis is only temporary- at least that is what your doctors are all saying- and you should regain tour full range of motion over time." Reassured by Sherlock's clinical reassurances of his situation, John asked a question with his eyes and hoped that the detective would bother with answering it.

"I assume by your look that you want to know how you were rescued?" When the bedridden doctor only blinked up at him patiently the tall brunette rolled his eyes and gave a huff.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed he began.

"Moriarty, John, really? Couldn't you have found someone else to alleviate your physical urges with? A nice assassin, perhaps?" If he could have laughed he would have.

Only Sherlock would think dating- well, sleeping with- an assassin would be an improvement over a psychopathic genius who was hot as all hell and twice as interesting.

"Though considering that your 'relationship' with him is what has saved your life I'm willing to over-look it this once, but don't think for a moment that you'll be getting out of having kept your full skill-set a secret from me. Thieving skills could have come in very handy in several of our cases, you know." The glare that Sherlock leveled him with would have been intimidating if John wasn't able to see the child-like excitement behind it.

The doctor just hoped he would recover fast enough to be able to sate Sherlock curiosity on the subject, and the inevitable training that would be demanded from him.

"But that is for later once you're able to start talking again, right now you want to know how we found you. Well, we began by identifying your old boss that you had so callously neglected to name in your note- poor form, that. It would have made things so much easier if you had just given us his name to begin with." This time the glare really was intimidating, but John just rolled his eyes and was mildly pleased when he felt his lips twitch in a slight smirk.

"Doyal, your former boss, was fleeing the country when we finally tracked him down; Mycroft was kind enough to pick him up for me once I had explained the situation. Once delivered to a certain warehouse that I'm almost positive I'm not supposed to know anything about, Moriarty managed to... persuade him to tell us your location. And now here we are." A dismissive wave of his hand signaled that he was done explaining and John managed a slight shake of his head and a wry smile.

He could read enough between the lines to see just how closely Jim and Sherlock must have worked together to find him.

"Now that you are fully informed you should sleep. The doctors have all been rather insistent that you should sleep as much as possible until you've regained your greater motor functions." Now that the idea had been planted, John found that he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Rest, John. You're definitely going to need it once I'm able to start questioning you." John drifted to sleep with a sigh, knowing that Sherlock was definitely right about that.

His last thought before consciousness left him was to wonder how ole' Arthur was getting on with Jim at the moment.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Jim stared down at the ashen and fear filled face of the man strapped to the table next to him. Manipulating the control box in his hand he watched with mild satisfaction as the bound man arched upwards with a blood curdling scream as the electrodes that had been embedded in his muscles earlier that day came to life.

A scowl crawled across the Consultant Criminal's expressive features as the door behind him opened and he was forced to stop his new pass-time earlier than expected.

"I said I wasn't to be disturbed!" He yelled at whoever had been foolish enough to interrupt him without turning to face them, choosing instead to study the new tear tracks running down his captives face.

"Oh, I didn't know." Jim froze at the sound of that voice.

"You see, I've been in the hospital for the last month and you hadn't come to visit to tell me anything like that." Jim slowly turned to see the man that he had almost lost, and who had once again snuck up on him.

He really needed to figure out how John kept doing that.

"John..." He whispered, he just didn't know what else to say as the short blonde began limping towards him.

Every uncertain step, every heavy lean on that hateful cane that was once again being used, gave Jim a new idea to tryout on the man who had caused it.

"Jim." The doctor said as he came level with the table.

Giving a single glance at the unconscious man who had once been his boss, and who was now strapped to a table and being slowly- ever so slowly- tortured to death, he turned to face Jim directly.

"I should be very upset that you're capable of this level of sadistic cruelty- but I'm not. Do you know why, Jim?" At Jim's confused and uncomprehending look John just smirked.

"Then I won't tell you. You'll just have to figure it out for yourself." John leaned forward and dropped a quick kiss on Jim's partly parted lips.

"Maybe over dinner? Pick me up at eight." Giving a stunned nod, Jim watched as John exited the same way he had entered.

Turning a blank stare onto the table bound man, Jim let a wide smile overtake his features as he realized what had just happened.

He had a date with John! He had to get ready.

Sending a text to his minions to come and take his personal project away for storage, Jim headed out to get cleaned up. It wouldn't do to show up to a first date wearing old, blood splattered cloths now would it.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Once home from seeing Jim, John sat down in the quiet of the empty flat with a cup of tea and decided to relax a bit before getting ready for his date.

Just as he began to fully relax- he would be oh so happy when he could put that godforsaken cane away, and his aching muscles agreed with him- he heard a measured tread on the stair and he braced himself for some, hopefully, quality entertainment.

"Slipped your net again, has he?" John called out before the door could be opened.

"Dr. Watson, I must ask you to refrain from teaching my little brother any more of your little 'tricks'. He has absolutely no business either knowing or practicing such things." Was Mycroft's rejoinder as he entered 221b, and John had to take a quick sip from his mug to hide his sudden grin.

"I really don't know what you're talking about." John denied, but knew that he hadn't kept the humor fully from his voice.

Thankfully Sherlock returned at that moment and unwittingly saved John from further ineffectual intimidation from the elder Holmes brother, but only because he held in his hands something that would distract just about anyone.

"Sherlock, please tell me that that is not THE Crystal Skull and that you only decided to pick up a replica." Mycroft's tone was the closest John had ever heard the posh man come to whining.

Sherlock just smirked and set his new, shiny prize next to the old skull on the mantel.

"I didn't think you were one to encourage lying, Mycroft." Before an argument could get underway the door was pushed open once more by a distressed looking DI Lestrade.

"Sherlock! There's been a theft..." He trailed off as he caught sight of what was on the mantel.

"Right. Well... give it back and we'll just say that you recovered it for us." The DI said without missing a beat.

"No." Was Sherlock's simple answer.

The next couple of hours were pleasantly spent- by John at least- watching a three-way argument between an irate Detective Inspector from New Scotland Yard, THE British Government and an increasingly stroppy Consulting Detective.

The doctor didn't think it could get any better, but then Jim arrived for their half forgotten date and added his opinion to the growing cacophony.

"That isn't even the real skull you've got there, I've been using the real one as a paper weight for the last few years." That just added fuel to the already burning inferno that comprised the yelling match in the sitting room, and so John made himself another cup of tea and ordered take-out for all five of them while watching the show.

It wasn't the dinner he'd been hoping for, but he wasn't about to pass up quality entertainment when it was dropped directly in his lap.

"You heard him! It isn't even real! Why should I have to give mine up if it isn't even the real one?!"

"That isn't the point! You stole the one on display! I could arrest you for that- I should arrest you for that!"

"The Detective Inspector is correct, Sherlock, you need to stop letting your little thief of a flatmate corrupt you like this."

"Hold-on! You didn't just insult my Johnny, did you? Oh, bad move!"

By the time dinner arrived various death threats had been issued, and possibly one third-world government had been over-thrown, but John simply ignored it all and started passing out the plates he had loaded up and pushing the argumentative men into seats.

"Eat first and then continue yelling, I don't want anyone dropping out due to hunger." He leveled his best Captain's glare at them all and they began to eat in silence.

The peace lasted all of ten minutes, and the doctor was amazed by that. He would chalk it up to Sherlock having actually been hungry for once.

"So Jim, where did my replica Crystal Skull come from? It's very good and I may need to have another one made in order to satisfy the Yard and media." Jim just smirked and leaned into John who was seated between the two consulting geniuses on the sofa.

"I got it from the gift shop, they have a lot of them there." That, of course, started John laughing.

Jim joined in quickly, and when Mycroft began to glare at them Sherlock added in his deep rumble.

Giving up on reasoning with his little brother- and not wanting to have to deal anymore with a dangerously, and insanely, possessive Master Criminal who flew off the handle at the slightest perceived insult to 'his Johnny'- Mycroft flounced out with the DI close at his heels sans skull.

Once the two older men had left the two remaining geniuses took up glaring at each other over John's head.

"No fighting in the flat or I'll send you each to a corner. And the two of you were doing so well before now to." Jim snorted at that while Sherlock simply rolled his eyes.

"I guess I'll just have to have Mycroft come over more often if that's what it takes to get the two of you to play nice together." The two consultants shared a look of mutual horror at the thought of spending more time than necessary with the pompous arse Sherlock had the misfortune to call brother.

Standing swiftly, and grabbing both of his skulls, the only Consulting Detective in the world went to his room to do some heavy thinking(ie: pouting) on the problem John had presented him with: Who did he loath more and want to spend less time with, Mycroft or Moriarty?

Jim on the other hand was just glad to finally have John all to himself after the unexpected turn their first date had taken.

"So. Are you going to tell me why you aren't upset with me yet?" Jim asked once John had finished clearing away all of the plates- he had insisted he do it himself or else Jim would have just trashed it all for him to save the doctor's still stiffish limbs the trouble.

"What?" John's fake shock face was nearly as good as Jim's had been.

"Don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet!" John teased with a wide grin.

Putting on his best 'big puppy dog' eyes, Jim looked up at the standing blonde.

"A small hint would go a long way to helping me figure it out." He wheedled cutely, causing John to lean in for a deep kiss.

"Not on my sofa!" Came the shout from behind Sherlock's closed bedroom door.

Laughing, John finished the kiss and pulled Jim to his feet.

"I've been in a couple of your bedrooms now and I think it's time you were in mine, don't you think? And if you haven't figured it all out by the time we're done then I'm giving up all confidence in that genius brain of yours." Jim grinned like a madman as he let himself be pulled up the stairs to John's bedroom without any protest.

Of course he had it all figured out, and though he felt the same neither of them were quite ready to say those three simple words yet.

Besides, tonight would be his turn to top.


End file.
